


Bitter Aftertaste

by Bad_Anxi



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bad_Anxi/pseuds/Bad_Anxi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Say goodbye to Zacharie for me." <br/>Written for a tumblr request: a small scene between the Batter and Zacharie shortly after Sugar's untimely demise. Operating headcanon is that Sugar and Zacharie are family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter Aftertaste

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on AO3, so I'm sorry if it's not perfect. This was a prompt/request from a tumblr anon, for the exchange between the Batter and Zacharie after Sugar's 'purification.' It's not perfect, and I might fill it out some more and revise it. I noted it in the summary, but my operating headcanon is that Sugar is Zacharie's sister. i'm not against the ship, it just doesn't fall into my personal headcanon.  
> So, um, enjoy?

 

          _"Say goodbye to Zacharie for me."_

          He watched as she seemed to shrivel to the floor, the life draining from her slowly, then all at once. Sugar. Who was she? The Batter had thought her a mere spectre, a corrupted visage with no substance behind it. His fingers curled and uncurled around his bat nervously; suddenly it seemed cold and quiet despite the Add-Ons humming eagerly behind him. Adversaries Purified.

So why did he feel so _impure?_

          After a long look at the fallen woman, he felt his beloved Player pull him towards the exit of the cellar. Surely they had some idea, some plan in mind to approach Zacharie. There had to be something. Guided every step, the Batter made his was back toward the main room, grateful at least for the color surrounding him. If he were swallowed up in the hissing white of the purified areas, he didn't think he'd be able to take it. All the possible scenarios rolled through his mind, all the ways Zacharie could react to the loss of... whoever she was to him. The Batter swallowed back the rising bile in his throat and inhaled sharply, entering the room to find the merchant kneeling next to his supply bag, sorting some items and humming to himself.

Completely calm.

He hadn't heard anything.

And that would make this harder.

          "Batter, my friend." Zacharie looked up from his belongings, rising to his feet and brushing off his clothes. "You look troubled. Could it be that you need so--"

          "She's dead."

          Those two words tumbled out, tactless and unbidden. Dead. Purified. Heat rose in the Batter's face as he stared past the other man, waiting.

          "Wha-- You don't... mean..." The merchant stared at the floor for an almost eternal moment, absently pulling at the front of his sweater, then looked back up at him. The lack of expression in his mask made the Batter uncomfortable. "Sugar?"

          "She was... I, I had to." He fought hard to keep his voice steady, but he was losing. "She was impure. It had to be done. She presented herself to me as an adversary. I'm here to purify, so I purified her." It was easy. It was natural, but he couldn't say that to him. The Batter swallowed again, cursing his inability to communicate more smoothly. Purifying generally didn't involve comforting people. It wasn't a skill point for him, and Zacharie's silence was doing nothing to put him at ease. "She told me to tell you goodbye."

          "She told you to tell me..." His pale fingers curled around the sides of his mask, the frozen expression unchanging and, the Batter thought, unsettling as always. "Did she tell you who she was? Did you even ask, before you killed her, or was she just another spectre to you?" Something filled Zacharie's voice, venom and confusion and malice. No, not malice. Judgement. Judgement slithered in his voice, smoky and deep and quiet. "She was my sister, Batter. The last family I had."

          "That doesn't make a difference. She was standing in the way of my sacred mission."

          "Your mission. Heheheh. Of course, your sacred mission to purify the world. The man who'll tear down family and stranger alike if it gets him to the prize faster. Heheheh." He lifted his mask halfway to wipe his eyes with the back of his sleeve, choking back a hysterical sob. "Was she so impure? She was my sister."

          "It couldn't be helped," the Batter breathed. "It couldn't be helped, she was corrupted."

          "You're supposed to be a saviour," Zacharie whispered.

          "She was _corruption incarnate_."

          " _She was my **SISTER** **!** "_

          Zacharie's legs wobbled unsteadily beneath him; he dropped to the floor next to his bag and tore his mask off, dropping it at his side. The Batter had never seen his face before, had never thought much about it. He was pale, with dark, pronounced shadows around his color-inverted eyes, and his mouth was somewhat crooked, as if someone had maybe broken his jaw a long time ago. The merchant let out a dry chuckle and hid his face in his hands, rocking forward and back.

          "I knew... I should have seen it coming, but..." He looked through his fingers at the Batter, who stood focusing on the floor between them motionless. Suddenly the color of the walls seemed overpowering, blinding, and the purifier wished for the chilling whiteness of anywhere else. Anywhere, anything but this.

          Finally approaching him, the Batter knelt and pulled Zacharie's hands from his face. He didn't know what the hell he was doing, but his Player seemed to think this was the purest course of action. Moving by the Player's guidance, he took the merchant's face in his hands and looked into his eyes, noting that they were almost as bizarre as his own. "You can't blame yourself." What was that supposed to mean? What kind of generic shit was the Player feeding him? "It had to be done..." He continued softly, pulling Zacharie close and pressing their foreheads together. In the quiet of the room, the Batter held him while he cried and mumbled and sniffled, waiting for the impure feelings to pass out of his companion.

          "I guess... It's _better_ that way."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Reviews, critiques, and comments are always welcome.  
> (Also, I hope I tagged this thing right.)


End file.
